


On That Day

by angelsaves



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Face-Sitting, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Riding, sexual crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 19:38:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2704079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsaves/pseuds/angelsaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol wants to start over, and Daryl says she can. So they do, in the back seat of Carol's car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On That Day

**Author's Note:**

> the title comes from "up the wolves," by the mountain goats.
> 
> (something went wrong the first time i posted this, so i'm trying again)

Carol's back. _Carol's_ back. Carol's _back_. Daryl keeps saying it to himself in different ways, gazing at her, like maybe soon he'll believe it. _Carol's back._ It's like a fucking song.

He hugged her so tight when he first saw her -- he couldn't do anything else, just clutch at her back and rest his head on her shoulder. It was enough just to know that they finally had her back.

Later, though, in his sleeping bag, Daryl thinks about how maybe he could have done something else. He squeezes his eyes shut against the flickering fire and thinks -- maybe. Maybe he could have kissed her, and maybe she would have kissed him back, and --

He clenches his teeth and fists his cock, letting himself imagine a smaller, cooler hand there instead, remembering the way her hair felt, soft curls against his cheek, and oh, Christ, it would be so nice --

Daryl cleans himself up, then falls asleep. He doesn't dream about anything at all.

***

The next morning, the sun is barely breaking through the trees when Daryl wakes up. At first, he doesn't know why he's awake. There's no sign of walkers, he doesn't have to piss -- but there's someone sitting on the end of his sleeping bag.

"Carol," he says, struggling to sit up and knuckle the sleep out of his eyes. "Morning."

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Carol says. She's leaning forward, close to him, and Daryl might not be much of a talker, but he'll do just about anything this woman wants him to.

"All right," he says.

"Not here." She gets to her feet. "There's a store not too far down the road that I thought might have some supplies left. Want to join me?"

"Sure," Daryl says. "Let me just --"

"Take your time." Carol smiles and turns away, so he pulls himself together real quick.

It doesn't take long. Soon, they're heading south in Carol's car, Carol driving, Daryl riding shotgun, keeping his eyes on the edges of the road for any sign that they're being watched. It's comfortable, he thinks.

"I lied," Carol says, and Daryl turns to look at her. There's a smile at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah?" Daryl says. He doesn't think she's planning on killing him.

"I just wanted to get you alone," she says. "Daryl."

"Oh," he says, and chews that over. "Why? We've been alone."

"You ever go parking?" Carol asks. She has both hands on the wheel, but she glances over at him as she talks. "Take a nice girl out under the stars?"

"Didn't have a car," Daryl says. "Under the bleachers, I guess, a time or two."

Carol smiles. "Bleachers sound a little dangerous these days, but I thought we could find someplace with a good view."

That makes sense -- they'll see any walkers coming -- and then it doesn't. "What for?"

She gives him one of those quick, sideways glances. "What did you do under the bleachers?"

Daryl shifts in his seat. "Some kissing, some feeling up. Never got too far before the gym teachers came in."

"And did you like it?" Another quick glance.

"Course I did." He shifts again, and has a feeling Carol knows why. "Did you like what you did -- parking?"

Carol sighs, but it seems mostly happy, towards the end. "I did," she says.

"Good." Daryl fidgets a little so she won't look at his face.

"When you said we could start over," Carol says after a moment. "Did you mean it?"

"Yeah," Daryl says. "I did."

"I'd like that." Carol looks at him and takes one hand off the steering wheel. He realizes what she's doing an eyeblink before she does it -- rests her hand on his knee. It's a shock, but not a bad one.

No, not a bad one at all. Tentatively, Daryl puts his hand on top of hers. It's smaller and cooler than his, but nearly as callused. He likes it.

"I want to start over," Carol says. Her hand flexes on his knee. "I want to start -- something. With you."

Daryl swallows. "I like the sound of that," he says, and squeezes her hand.

Carol pulls over then, and Daryl cases the area quickly: good sight-lines, plenty of space to aim if any walkers do show up. It could be worse.

When he meets Carol's eyes, she's already looking at him, like she's considering him. He hopes she sees something she likes, because he's pretty far gone on her.

"Get in the back seat," Carol says softly, "and take off your pants. Whichever order, I'm not picky."

Daryl's mouth drops open, but he snaps it closed and clambers over the back of the seat, because he's no fool. He gets hs pants and boxers off before Carol opens the other door, the light coming in behind her lighting up her hair and her guns like some kind of angel statue.

She's got her pants off, too, and she straddles his thighs, then pulls the door shut behind them. "Hi," she says, and smiles at him, like they're not half-naked in the back of a car -- or maybe exactly like that. He never knows with Carol.

"Hi," he says, and reaches up to touch one of the curls of her hair. It's soft, and he tucks it behind her ear.

"Daryl," she says, touching his arm, and leans down to kiss him. Her mouth is soft and hot, and he wants, he _wants_. Before he knows it, Daryl finds himself tangling his fingers in her hair, pulling her down to him, bucking up to meet her.

"Oh God, oh God," Carol is saying when they break apart, catching their breaths. "Oh, God, _Daryl_."

"Not so bad, eh?" Daryl stretches to rest his head on his arms. He's pretty good at the kissing part, if he does say so himself.

Carol's grin is dangerous. "Not bad at all," she says. "Think you can handle a little more?"

"Whatever you want," Daryl says. He can't stop looking at her, her beautiful eyes, the little lines around them like the rays of the sun. He'd reach into his chest and hand her his heart if she wanted it.

"Good," Carol says, and reaches down to wrap her hand around his cock. He gasps and presses up into her grip, and oh, God, she fits herself around him, slick and wet and perfect. "Good," she says again, rocking back and forth on him, squeezing him, God, he never knew --

Daryl pushes himself up on his elbows so he can see her face better. It's awkward, but it seems to do something nice for Carol, who makes the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. "Carol," he breathes, and presses kisses to her cheek, her neck, her earlobe.

She strokes his hair, and he leans into the touch. "Do you want to come like this?" she asks him.

He can't think of anything better. "Yeah," he says, "fuck, yeah."

Carol smiles. "Okay." She slips her fingers down between them, squeezing the base of his dick, and kisses the corner of his mouth, and oh, fuck, Daryl's going off like a rocket. 

He slides down until his head is flat on the seat. "Jesus, Carol," he says. "What about you?"

"I can take care of myself," Carol says. He looks, and her fingers are still between her legs. He wants to feel; he wants to taste.

"Come here," he says. She raises her eyebrows. "What if you just -- on my face?"

"Have you ever?" Carol asks, but she's shifting her weight, moving up his chest.

"I pick things up fast," he says, and smiles at her. It must not be too rusty, because Carol eases her thighs over his shoulders and then -- oh --

"That's right," Carol says, petting his hair. "Like that -- oh, yes, just like that." The taste and smell of her is everywhere, and he never wants to stop. "Oh, God -- Daryl --"

And then she's clenching around his tongue, grinding down against his face, and Daryl keeps going until she climbs off him, thighs quivering.

There's not much room on the seat this way, but Daryl snuggles into the curve of her arms anyway, letting her wipe his eyes and mouth and kiss the back of his neck. "Something new," she says softly.

"Yeah," Daryl says, and squeezes her hand. "Something new."


End file.
